


The Interrogation of Sara Martin

by 20SomethingSuperHeroes



Series: Bucky in Arizona [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Hydra (Marvel), Interrogation, Investigations, SHIELD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 12:36:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4960897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/20SomethingSuperHeroes/pseuds/20SomethingSuperHeroes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>S.H.I.E.L.D. has been called in to investigate a shooting at a mall in Minneapolis.  Director Coulson, Hillary, and their friend Mitch must act quickly to discover the whereabouts of Hydra in the area and find out how they were linked to the attack.  At the same time, Hillary Tanner's friend and former S.H.I.E.L.D. colleague Sara Martin is being called for questioning about her involvement in the shooting--and Hillary must question the secrets she herself is guarding. </p><p>Setting: Three months before the events of "The Avengers: Age of Ultron"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Interrogation of Sara Martin

Mitch and Hillary went down to the hotel breakfast room in Des Moines and found Coulson already there, on the phone while he tried to cut up a large waffle with a fork. Hillary got a bagel and some Special K cereal, while Mitch loaded up on pastries, scrambled eggs, toast and fruit loops. They sat down with Coulson and started to eat.

Coulson finally hung up. “Whew, I thought he’d never hang up.” He picked up his knife and tore off an extra large piece of waffle. “Hm, still warm. Anyway, you’ll want to keep your winter coats out. We’re going to Minneapolis. And it looks like we’ll be staying there for the weekend.”

“Are they finally letting us check out that mall attack?” asked Hillary.

“Yeah, finally,” said Coulson. “After about four months. The S.H.I.E.L.D. office up there and the local police have done everything they could. Now they want us to come up and take a look.” Coulson took a bite of waffle and swallowed. “I was just on the phone with their director, Agent Amos. He says they have a witness they would like help questioning. 

And they need help looking for local Hydra activity. Apart from the mall attack they’ve been completely off the radar.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” said Mitch.

“So has Steve been up there to look yet?” asked Hillary. “Because we know Bucky was there.” 

Mitch found this statement incomprehensible, and went back to eating his fruit loops.

“Steve’s still out helping the Avengers look for Hydra,” said Coulson. “They were in Asia, last I heard. His friend Sam Wilson’s been looking on his own, but he hasn’t gotten very  
far.”

“If you say so,” said Hillary. “Well, we’ll see if we can find something for Steve to work with.”

Her phone buzzed with a text message. There was a picture of a cardboard box of bagels.

We’ve got Einstein bros at the garage this morning.~Dad

Hillary smiled. 

Hillary:Tell Bucky to stuff his face from me.  
Trey: I’ll see if that can get him out of bed. ;) 

In Mesa, Arizona, TJ had brought three boxes of Einstein Brothers’ bagels and six containers of their specialty cream cheese. He and Adam carried these into the breakroom and turned on the light, but Bucky rolled his face away and covered his head. Trey came in and helped himself and then left.

“Come on, man, get outta bed!” yelled Pablo as he walked into the room. 

“Dude, shut up, he’s asleep,” said Benny, following him in and grabbing a blueberry bagel.

“No, man, he’s faking,” said Pablo. “Come on, Bucky, we know you’re awake. And we’re prepared to bet that you’re hungry.” 

Bucky pulled up his blanket so they couldn’t see his metal arm.

“Come on, man, bagels,” said Benny. “TJ brought them.”

Bucky turned his head to look at them, scowling in the glare of the fluorescent lights.

“What are bagels?”

“Bagels! The bread of life,” said Pablo, holding out his spread-covered bagel like an object of devotion.

“Oh, those,” said Bucky. “Ha.”

Trey came into the room. “Hey, Bucky, Hillary says from me that you need to get something to eat.” 

“Okay, whatever,” said Bucky. He sat up slowly, his sheet still draped over his left shoulder. He picked up his jacket from the ground, pulled it over his right arm and then very  
carefully stuck in his left. He pulled the glove out of his pocket and put it on. The others didn’t know that his left arm was metal and he wasn’t ready for them to find out. 

He got up and went to the counter behind Trey’s desk. He poured himself a glass of orange juice and drank. Then he had a cinnamon bagel with a special cream cheese that had  
apple bits in it. He ate slowly, breathing in the scent of the others’ coffee and listening to their conversation about Benny’s weekend plans.

“And you’re coming with me this weekend, aren’t you, bro?” asked Benny.

“Yeah,” Bucky mumbled quietly. 

Trey reentered the breakroom. “Pablo, Benny, finish those bagels and get moving. We’ve got customers. Bucky, can you change out the water?”

“Yes, sir,” said Bucky. As soon as the three of them were finished with their bagels, they filed out of the room.

“Let’s get to work!” said Benny, hitting the top of the doorjam.

“Work it!” said Pablo, repeating the gesture.

“Sup!” said Bucky, trying to sound as cool as they did. He hit the doorjam with his left hand. Perhaps he hit it a little harder than he meant to. He ended up pushing his hand into  
the wood, and it cracked.

He looked up at the damage, and then he looked at Trey, who was watching from the guest room. Trey laughed. 

“You don’t know your own strength, kid.”

“Maybe in the mornings.”

 

The flight from Des Moines to Minneapolis was as short as could be expected. When they came out of the plane onto the walkway there was a crack that let in a substantial amount of cold air, and Hillary could see snow drifting outside. 

“Brr!”

“I take it you are not looking forward to this,” said Mitch.

“Definitely not.”

Coulson caught up to them. “I was having a little chat with the flight attendant, sorry. I found out she was from Portland. I’ve been there a few times, so, you know.”

“I know the feeling,” said Mitch as they entered the terminal. “I definitely know the feeling.”

“You didn’t ask her if she knew your cellist, did she?” asked Hillary.

“Oh, I couldn’t help it, but Portland’s such a big city.” 

“Everywhere you’re from is a big city,” said Mitch. 

They made their way through the terminal all right. A blizzard had just rolled in and people were scurrying about trying to rearrange their flights. Hillary felt bad just walking by without helping any of them. 

When they reached the baggage claim, Coulson called Agent Amos while Hillary and Mitch got their bags. Hillary turned her phone back on and took a picture of the white-out from the windows.

I see why you like it down in Mesa

She was pushing it, sending a text to someone on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s wanted list in front of her boss, but she thought Bucky might appreciate the gesture. And sure enough, he texted her back from her dad’s phone.

Don’t freeze up there. :P

I should never have showed him how to use emoticoms, she thought.

They ended up waiting on the benches for several minutes. Agent Amos came after a short while, snow dusting his heavy coat and hat. Hillary, Coulson, and Mitch put on their winter coats and headed out. The snow wasn’t falling that hard, and there wasn’t any wind, but it was piling up quickly on the roads, and that plus the limited visibility made driving precarious at best.

Rex Amos, director of Minnesota’s S.H.I.E.L.D. office, was of medium height with big bones and a paunch around the middle. He had been installed last May after nearly all of the Minneapolis staff had quit in protest of the Hydra infiltration. His office was almost entirely new recruits, they were aware, and as he told them once they were in the car, they were poorly equipped to handle investigating the mall attack last October. 

“I would say other than that we’ve been doing all right,” said Amos.

“I wish we’d have come up sooner,” said Coulson. “It sounds like you guys have needed the help.”

“Well, if you can come up some other time or send someone experienced our way, we would appreciate that,” said Amos.

“So what are we doing today,” said Coulson, “interrogating or looking for suspects?”

“It looks like, with the weather the way it is, we’re interrogating,” said Amos. “I called our witness to ask if she would like to reschedule her appointment, but she said she didn’t  
mind coming in. She’s got good tires on her car and it’s hard for her to get time off from work.”

“It sounds like she’s not afraid to drive in this mess,” said Hillary. 

“Not at all, she’s a native.”

“She sounds like a neat gal, what’s her name?” asked Mitch.

“Sara Martin,” said Coulson. “You’d remember her from S.H.I.E.L.D. school, Hillary, wouldn’t you?”

Hillary gasped. “Sara Martin?”

“Yes, well, she happened to be eating lunch at the mall when the attack occurred,” said Coulson. “There was security footage to prove it. Wasn’t it your office that identified her?”

“Wait--yes it was,” said Hillary, a dead weight dropping in her stomach. “Oh.”

“Well, we figured since she used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. that she might be willing to talk to us,” said Amos. “She was one of the people Hill laid off, wasn’t she?” he asked Coulson.

“Yeah, she was,” Coulson said, taking a slow inhale. “It was a shame to let someone like her go, but her track record wasn’t that impressive. Well...maybe if I’d been the one  
calling the shots I would have been a little more judicious.” 

Hillary’s mind was racing. She and Sara had had an awkward Facebook chat on this very subject just before Christmas. There was some doubt that Sara would be as willing to talk about it this time around. 

“So you actually know this person?” Mitch said to Hillary, interrupting her reverie.

“Oh, yes, she was one of my friends at S.H.I.E.L.D. school. And we hung out a lot together.”

“Wow, that’s fun,” said Mitch. “Is she a nice girl?”

“Oh, yes, very nice. She’s a bit of a daydreamer, always been better at office stuff than fieldwork, but she’s...compassionate, I guess you’d call her.”

“And, not to sound creepy or anything but what’s her relationship status, do you know?” 

Hillary laughed. “What, are things not working out with that one girl?”

“I’m just saying,” said Mitch. “How about Sara?”

“Well, actually, I did hear recently over Facebook that she’s started dating a guy. She also just got a job--only a few months after S.H.I.E.L.D. let her go, if you can believe it/” 

“Wasn’t she the one who always wore her hair in braids?” asked Coulson. “She was in DC when the Triskelion fell.”

“Yeah, that’s her, but she cut her hair pretty short, recently,” said Hillary. “She’s...been making a lot of changes, it seems like.”

“Cool,” said Mitch. “Well, I take it it’s not normal for us to feel this friendly towards a person we’re about to interrogate.”

“Don’t get too excited,” said Hillary. “She was probably just an innocent bystander like everyone else who was there. She might not know why Hydra randomly decided to attack.”

“Well, it’s not just that Hydra attacked the mall in broad daylight when everybody was having lunch,” said Coulson. “They were there for a reason. They were looking for  
someone.”

“Really, who?” said Mitch

“The Winter Soldier, by any chance?” said Hillary.

“Chances are, yes,” said Coulson. “And that’s also why this attack on the mall is significant, because it’s the most significant lead that anybody has had on him for months. We  
know that he was definitely here. We also have some shaky evidence that he went south after that, but in the meantime this is the best we have to go on.” Coulson took a deep  
breath.

“I’ve heard that name tossed around,” said Mitch, “but who exactly is the Winter Soldier?”

Amos looked at Coulson. “Are your trainees not up-to-speed on this?”

“I didn’t think it was as relevant,” said Coulson. He looked back at Mitch and said, “Up until last April, the Winter Soldier was Hydra’s top assassin. He was the one they loaned out to foreign governments and used for the people they wanted killed dramatically and quickly.”

“Okay,” said Mitch. “But what happened last April?”

“Well, the Winter Soldier and Captain America fought face-to-face, and Captain Rogers got a good look at him and noticed that the man sent to kill him bore an uncanny  
resemblance to his best friend from the past.”

Mitch was confused. “You’ve lost me.”

“Back in the 1940s,” said Coulson. “before then, even. Bucky Barnes was Steven Rogers’ best friend. They fought together against Hydra. Bucky fell to his death on their second  
to last mission--or at least, that’s what it looked like. Hydra found him and turned him into their assassin. And the thing is, for years and years nobody had any clue who this  
guy was.”

“So I imagine it wasn’t exactly a happy reunion,” said Mitch wryly.

Hillary smirked at Mitch. “I love your unflattering use of understatement.” 

“Well, it’s no surprise that the Winter Soldier has been on the run ever since meeting Captain America. Rogers is still looking for him, of course, when he’s not off with the  
Avengers. But he’s not the only one. S.H.I.E.L.D., of course, wants to make sure he’s still not a threat.”

“Doesn’t act like someone who isn’t, if you ask me,” said Amos.

“And then, of course, Hydra wants him back, maybe to put him back to work, but I have my suspicions that they just want to kill him. Make sure he doesn’t end up fighting  
against them.”

”Well, did Hydra know about this?”

“I imagine some of them did,” said Coulson irritably. “Captain America’s best friend--I’d be surprised if at least some of them didn’t know about it. They had to have known.” 

“Coulson is a huge Captain America fan, aren’t you, boss?” said Hillary.

“That’s right.” 

“I knew that already,” said Mitch.

“And of course, since Steve got off the ice, they’ve been good friends,” she explained to Mitch.

“More or less,” Coulson commented.

“So Coulson’s really eager to help Steve and Bucky get reunited.” 

“But I take it this...Bucky doesn’t really want that,” Mitch said.

“Well...that’s anyone’s guess,” said Hillary. “But if he hasn’t gone crawling back to Steve, then that must be the case.”

“But in the meantime, we’re doing what we can to help,” said Coulson. 

“That’s cool,” said Mitch. “And have you met Captain America?”

“We did a semester of S.H.I.E.L.D. school together,” said Hillary. “Steve would hang out with my group of friends. We’ve hung out a few times since then. Come to think of it I  
haven’t seen him since this whole Bucky thing exploded. I guess he’s been busy. But, who knows, maybe we’ll cross paths with Steve one of these days. I’ll introduce you.” 

“It seems like you have a lot of cool friends,” said Mitch.

“They’re just people.” 

“Do you think Sara would have seen anything suspicious on the day of the attack?” asked Agent Amos.

“I wouldn’t know,” said Hillary. But of course she had seen pictures of the damning evidence from the security cam recordings: Sara had been within arm’s length of Bucky. It had  
been obvious they were together. 

“But Sara would have known about the Winter Soldier, though,” said Coulson. “She was in DC when all of that happened. She never saw him, though,” said Coulson. “Anyone who saw the Winter Soldier either ran the other direction or died. Sara was in the Triskelion during the Insight launch and was part of the group that evacuated.”

“But in the days afterward, though,” said Amos, “there would have been rumors, wouldn’t there?”

“Nobody believed them,” said Coulson.

Sara strikes me as someone who would have, Hillary thought, but she didn’t say it out loud. Her brain was jumping to conclusions that she hoped were incorrect. 

“But what I’m still wondering about,” said Hillary, “is who tipped them off that he was at the mall. For all we know it could have been someone who was just there shopping. We might never find them.” 

“That’s true,” said Amos. “Right now we’re just surveying the twin cities to see if Hydra pops up again. I don’t blame whoever it is they were after for making tracks, we haven’t  
found a trace of him. But if your evidence is correct, and this Sara Martin person saw him, maybe we could find out where he was heading.” 

Hillary hoped her nerves were partially due to hunger. They stopped at Subway for hot sandwiches, and the warm aroma inside the restaurant soothed her a little. But after Subway they went straight to the S.H.I.E.L.D. office in a small business complex on the edge of town. It was the largest suite, situated between a doctor’s office and a chiropractor. The space was decorated with dark wood paneling that Hillary guessed came with the building. They hung up their coats and got set up in the interrogation room, with recording equipment and chairs and their printed briefings. So they really didn’t have much to do before Sara arrived except wait around.

“She is supposed to be here at about three,” said Amos. “She took the whole afternoon off from work.”

“Where does she work, now?”

“At a psychiatrist’s office,” said Hillary. 

“Is that in this business park, by any chance?” asked Coulson eagerly.

Mitch laughed. “That would be something, now wouldn’t it? Just walk two doors down from work to your interrogation.”

“About as pleasant as walking two doors down to your dentist for a root canal,” said Coulson.

“Are you okay, Coulson?” asked Hillary.

“Oh, no, I’m fine,” said Coulson, waving his hands. “I think this won’t be too difficult.”

Hillary wanted to express her doubt, but just then Amos walked in. “The front desk says she’s here. You want to go out and greet her?”

“Sure,” said Hillary, standing up quickly. It had been months since she had seen Sara. They hadn’t been very close but they liked each other. But Hillary wondered if that would  
still be the case when this was over.

They went down the hall and down a flight of stairs to the front desk. Sara had just finished hanging up her coat, hat, and scarf and was sitting down to wait, but got up again quickly when she saw them.

“Agent Coulson?”

“It’s ‘Director’, now, actually,” said Coulson, reaching out to shake her hand.

“Oh, that’s right. But it’s good to see you,” said Sara. She lit up when she saw Hillary. “Hillary! How are you?”

“I’m doing fine, thanks,” said Hillary. She’d wanted to keep this formal, but let Sara hug her anyway. 

“Your hair looks amazing,” she said. 

“Thank you,” said Sara. “I’m really loving it.” Sara had braided her bangs, but her blonde hair was now short and straight and looked very different from the Sara she had known at S.H.I.E.L.D. school. Hillary was still doing a double-take. And it seemed like Sara now had a lot more confidence and poise, and she wasn’t sure if it was the haircut or something else.

“Whatever induced you to cut it?”

“I dunno,” said Sara. “I just wanted a change.”

Sara shook hands with Agent Amos and was introduced to Mitch.

“But how have you been, really?” asked Hillary as the group went up the stairs. 

“I’m doing great,” said Sara. “I’ve got a job in my career field. I’ve got a great boyfriend. Oh, and I just paid off my car last month.”

“You didn’t mention that on Facebook.”

“Yeah. Well, I can keep some of my victories private, I guess.”

“And you took the GRE a few weeks ago. How was that?”

“I think I did pretty good, actually. But I won’t get my scores for another few weeks. So we’ll see.”

“I think you’ll make it.” They arrived in the interrogation room, and Sara sat down in one of the chairs at the table. She didn’t smile, but kept her face calm and expressionless. If  
Hillary didn’t know better, Sara knew what was coming.

“So, Miss Martin,” Coulson began, “you probably know why you are here.”

“Yes. I do.”

“Do you have any questions for us?”

Sara hesitated for a moment. “No.”

“Let’s begin, then,” said Coulson, opening a folder in front of him. “On the afternoon of October ___th of last year, you were in the River Heights mall when it was attacked by several armed hostiles whom we believe to be affiliated with Hydra. In fact, it was you who placed the call to tell S.H.I.E.L.D. what had happened.” 

“Yes, it was me.”

“I regret that we didn’t get to speak with you earlier on this matter,” said Coulson. “But if it’s not too much trouble to remember that far back--”

“It isn’t, sir,” said Sara. “I remember vividly.”

“Then can you tell us what happened?”

“Yes.”

“Now, we’ve been able to sort out images of the day of the attack from the mall security cameras,” Agent Amos spoke up. 

“And?” said Sara.

“We know that you were at the mall earlier in the day for a job interview with Kennley Co. Sport. We did corroborate with the manager there, and he says you were in for the  
interview that day at noon. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir,” said Sara. 

“Did you stay at the mall between the job interview and the time of the attack?”

“No, sir,” said Sara. Her eyes flickered for a moment. “The job interview didn’t take more than half an hour. I went to go get lunch...and…” she faltered.

“If you went to get lunch elsewhere, then why did you come back to the food court?” asked Coulson.

Sara held her peace a moment. Then she said, “I changed my mind. I decided I wanted to eat at one of the restaurants at the food court.” 

Hillary thought there was something off to her response.

“You didn’t buy food from elsewhere?” asked Amos.

“I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“I needed something cheaper.”

“Is that because you were looking for work at the time?” asked Hillary.

“Partly.”

“And what’s the other part?” asked Mitch.

Sara looked straight ahead at Coulson. “The other part was a very personal reason.”

Is she kidding? Hillary thought.

“How personal is this?” asked Coulson.

“Very.” Sara was blushing a little. 

“Coulson, what does her personal business have to do with the Hydra attack?” Mitch said suddenly.

“It might have everything to do with it, Agent,” said Coulson, turning around and looking up at Mitch. 

Mitch took a step backward. Coulson only referred to either of them as “agent” when they were doing something incorrectly. Mitch, being a novice, got it frequently, but Hillary wasn’t thrilled to hear it this time. 

“Miss Martin,” said Agent Amos, “when you returned to the mall the second time, just before the attack, you were with someone. The security cameras saw you.”

“Can I see the security camera images by any chance?” asked Sara.

“Security camera images are restricted to S.H.I.E.L.D. investigators only,” said Coulson.

Sara looked incredulous. “I used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D.. Certainly you can trust me--”

“You used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D., Sara. That’s the problem.”

“Well, I want to know why I’m being questioned about...possibly having been with someone.”

“Because that someone,” said Agent Amos, “might have been the Winter Soldier.” 

The room went very quiet. Hillary almost expected Sara to come out and deny it. And then she didn’t. She sat up straight in her chair and looked from Coulson to Agent Amos to Hillary and back. 

“Now I thought,” said Sara, “we were here to talk about the Hydra shooting at the mall.”

“Well, I’d like to discuss why it may have happened,” said Coulson. 

“I can tell you about the actual shooting,” said Sara.

Coulson was about to retort, when Amos said, “Then let’s hear it before we get sidetracked again. Did you see anything suspicious when you came to the food court?”

“No, I didn’t,” said Sara. “The attack was a complete surprise.”

“And you didn’t see anyone or anything when you had come earlier for the job interview?”

“Nuh-uh,” said Sara. 

“So you were eating lunch, then, in the food court,” said Coulson, “when Hydra walked in. Did you know they were Hydra?”

“No, I didn’t at first. But I guessed they might be.”

“How come?”

Sara didn’t answer. 

“Was it because of your friend? That you were eating lunch with?” 

“I didn’t say why I suspected it was Hydra,” said Sara. “And I’m not going to tell you why. But there were five of them. They came into the food court and started shooting people.  
I got up and ran for safety. And then I decided to stop them.”

“Yes, so we noticed,” said Agent Amos. “That was brilliant, with the fire extinguisher, by the way.”

“Thank you,” said Sara. Her pleased reply was marked with a little irritation. 

“So Hydra comes in, you fight them--but you certainly didn’t take them all out on your own.”

“No, I didn’t,” said Sara. “I will admit, I had a little help with that.”

“Did you notice anything about the Hydra operatives as you fought them?”

“No, nothing in particular,” said Sara. “But each of them was carrying a pair of handcuffs on their belt. The kind that S.H.I.E.L.D. uses. Not the everyday ones, but the magnetic  
ones for emergencies. That’s what tipped me off about who they were.” 

Coulson nodded, writing down a note. 

“Why do you think they had handcuffs?” asked Agent Amos.

“They may have wanted to arrest someone,” said Sara. “Or capture someone.” 

“Who do you think?” said Amos.

“Who do YOU think?” asked Sara. 

“Sara,” Hillary cut in, “you can’t talk to Coulson or to Agent Amos like this. You’re only going to get in trouble. Remember, you don’t work for S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore. We can prosecute you.” 

Sara looked up at Hillary. She didn’t say anything. 

Hillary was really unsure what to do. She knew Sara was hiding something. She wanted to know for sure what it was. But Sara seemed determined not to divulge any of the details--which was not a good idea. Hillary was her friend and wanted to help her, but she knew what was at stake if she took Sara’s side. 

Hillary took a deep breath and leaned over the table. “Sara, I’m asking you not to take any of this personally.”

“I won’t,” said Sara. 

“But I need you to talk to us. Just tell us what happened.”

“I just did. What more do you want?”

“Sara, you used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D.. You should have this figured out,” said Coulson.

“I’ll handle this, boss,” said Hillary. “But like he said, you know why we’re asking you this. S.H.I.E.L.D. is responsible for making sure that people and influences that could  
endanger others are held in check. Since the Winter Soldier disappeared he has been linked to several incidents that have threatened lives and property of people across the country, one of which was the incident at the mall last October. We know you were there. But you may know something more about this.”

“But why should I tell you about it?” asked Sara.

“Why shouldn’t you?” said Hillary, her voice raising involuntarily. Coulson flinched. “Sara, you’re my friend, you’re a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, you know why we want to know this. You have knowledge that could potentially endanger people if you withheld it. It you shared it, we could help them.”

“It could also hurt people if it was known,” said Sara. She looked up at Hillary coldly. “It’s no one else’s business, what I know about this matter.”

“What do you know?” asked Agent Amos.

“It’s none of your business,” said Sara. Now she was angry. “It’s none of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s business, either.” 

“That excuse doesn’t work here,” said Coulson seriously. “This is S.H.I.E.L.D.’s business.” He tried to soften his tone. “Sara--I’ve always thought highly of you. We know you were with the Winter Soldier at the mall.”

“He has a name, doesn’t he?” said Sara.

Hillary nearly jumped. That came out of nowhere, she thought.

“Does he use it?” asked Amos.

“I should think so,” said Sara. 

“But you were with him, then?” asked Coulson. 

“That is none of your business,” said Sara. 

“Well, if you were, then please, tell us,” Hillary said. 

“Where did you find him?” asked Coulson.

“I’m not telling you that,” said Sara. “I don’t have to tell you anything about him.”

“Why the heck not?”

“Miss Martin, we need to know the details,” said Agent Amos. “It doesn’t matter if the Winter Soldier no longer works for Hydra--he is a dangerous individual and S.H.I.E.L.D.  
needs to keep track of him. This is the most anyone has heard from him in months.”

“Well, I’m not going to tell you anything,” said Sara. 

“Sara, why can’t you tell us?” asked Hillary. “Please. It’s not just about S.H.I.E.L.D.--Captain Rogers has been looking for him for ages, without any sign of him.” You filthy hypocrite, Hillary told herself, but she kept on going. “We want to help him.” 

“I’m sure you do, personally,” said Sara. “But what does S.H.I.E.L.D. want to do with him, huh? Why does S.H.I.E.L.D. think Bucky is a threat?” 

Hillary couldn’t help thinking You just called him Bucky. You did meet him, didn’t you? 

“You are no longer an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.,” said Agent Amos. “What S.H.I.E.L.D. intends to do with James Barnes is none of your concern. But rest assured, we are looking out for him for his protection.”

“Protection? Hunting him down like he’s some criminal, is that protection?” asked Sara.

“Why do I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling us?” said Coulson.

“Well, this interrogation is over,” said Sara. “And you know why? Because I have a promise to keep. And I can’t keep it if I tell you anything. And frankly, I don’t see how anything  
I would tell you otherwise would help you any more in your investigation.” 

Hillary gaped at Sara open-mouthed. Sara had not been this assertive when she’d known her in the past. 

“Promises, you say,” said Coulson. “To whom? To Bucky?”

Hillary wondered if Sara was going to say yes. Or to nod her head. But Sara kept her head still. “And to myself.” 

“Did he make you?” asked Hillary.

“No.” And Sara was done speaking.

Couslon ruffled his stack of papers together. “Sara, we’re going to take a break for a few minutes. Is that all right?” 

“Yes. It’s fine.” Sara placed her hands on the table and looked down at them. 

If anything, Hillary realized as she walked out of the interrogation room, she knew how how Sara was feeling.

 

“Well, that got more intense than I was expecting,” said Mitch as they walked down the hallway to the breakroom. 

“No kidding,” said Hillary. Her mind was reeling. Mitch said something to her, but she wasn’t listening.

“Hillary? Hillary?”

“What?” 

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure if you were there,” said Mitch. “But I was saying, everyone seems to be ruffled about this whole Winter Soldier thing. Don’t you think?”

Hillary gave a nervous laugh. “You have no idea.” She poured herself a cup of water from the water tank in the breakroom. It wasn’t nearly as nice as the one her family had, or  
the one at her dad’s garage. She had to smile to herself as she thought of Bucky changing out the water tank in the Tanner Automotive lobby. 

“But why, though?” asked Mitch. “I mean, this Sara Martin, she’s friends with Captain America. Why wouldn’t she have told him if she saw this guy? And why isn’t she telling us?”

Hillary put her cup down. “I think if Bucky doesn’t want to be found, he’s going to be careful with whoever he’s asking for help. And I don’t think it matters to him who they know.”

“Right.” Mitch rubbed his face wearily. “Yeah, I felt bad for her, though. It’s a tall order, trying to protect someone else’s privacy from S.H.I.E.L.D..”

Agent Amos and Phil Coulson came into the breakroom, talking. They greeted Mitch and Hillary. Both of the younger agents turned to leave the room. But as Hillary was stepping  
out, she heard Amos mentioning something.

“From what I’ve heard, the Winter Soldier never responded to the name Bucky,” said Amos. “If he’s distancing himself from Captain America, wouldn’t he be using a different name?”

“You’d think he would,” said Coulson as he pulled a package of ramen noodles out of the cupboard and put it in a plastic dish.. Hillary stepped to the side of the door and stayed to listen. “But what I was saying was that anyone who’s friends with Steve would be calling him that. Of course, it all depends on what happened on that helicarrier last April.”

“And do we know what happened?”

“Not even Steve knows what happened.” Coulson put water into the dish and then put the ramen in the microwave. “One would think...that somehow...But anyway, back to Sara.”  
Coulson turned around to face Amos. “It wasn’t just that Sara had called him Bucky: it was the way she said it. Like that was how she knew him.”

“So you’re saying she might have spent more time with him than just at the mall.”

“I think so,” said Coulson. “How long they were together or what they did, I don’t have a clue. But like she said, it was personal.”

“Did she mean romantic personal?” asked Amos.

“I’m not sure. I would think not. But, Rex, what I’m trying to say is that it’s pretty clear that he was in the area, and that they were together at the mall. We don’t need to bother her any more on this point. I think what happened was that he left and didn’t say where he was going. So we’ll let her go. But we need to get back to focusing on Hydra. It’s enough that we know why they attacked the mall. The question is how did they get there. And I don’t think Sara knows the answer to that.”

“You’re probably right, sir,” said Agent Amos. “Shall I tell her?”

“No, I will,” said Coulson. The microwave beeper went off and Coulson got out his noodles.

Hillary went to the bathroom, deep in thought about what Coulson had just said. While she was washing her hands, she knew his guess was accurate. Sara Martin had not only seen Bucky, but they had spent time together--a LOT of time together. 

She looked at herself in the mirror. Should she ask Bucky what had happened? It sounded like Coulson was going to dismiss her, but Hillary had a source of more information. 

But if it was found out that Sara had tried to hide the truth from S.H.I.E.L.D., then...well, she could face criminal charges for lying in a legal investigation. Hillary couldn’t see Coulson wanting to do that, but he would anyway since he was such a stickler about the rules. And of course Agent Amos would want to press charges--this was his investigation, after all. He’d be mad at her for not telling him. 

And if Bucky had spent any amount of time with Sara, then how would he feel if he knew that S.H.I.E.L.D. was questioning her about it now? How would he feel if Hillary wanted to use him to get S.H.I.E.L.D. to prosecute Sara? 

Hillary wiped her hands vigorously on a paper towel and stepped out into the hallway. The bathroom was just a few steps down from the interrogation room. She could hear Coulson and Sara’s voices from inside. The door was partway open, and they were reminiscing about the old days when Sara had worked for S.H.I.E.L.D..  
Hillary stopped to listen for a minute. And then Coulson changed the subject.

“I can’t imagine how you feel about this. About how you must feel, if you’ve met Bucky.” 

“It’s not your job to understand how I feel, sir,” said Sara.

“No, it’s not. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s priority is to protect the civilian population. Not to help superhumans. For all intents and purposes, until we know for sure what Bucky is going to do with himself, he is still considered a threat. Do you understand?”

“Yes. I do,” Sara answered solemnly. She was a lot less defiant in front of just Coulson. Probably because he as being more frank with her. 

“And I want you to know that my personal feelings on the subject could not be any more different. I don’t want to hurt Bucky. I want to help him. I’m just doing my job.”

“I know how you feel, Coulson,” said Sara, “but it’s because I feel that way that I can’t give you any more information about him.”

“Then I think that that’s where we’ll have to let you go,” said Coulson.

“Wait, you’re letting me leave?” said Sara. She was surprised.

“I think you have given us all of the relevant information. And asking you to share anything else is a waste of time.”

“You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?” Sara smirked. 

“That’s right. But I am warning you, Sara, if it does come to light that anything you are keeping from us about Bucky could have been of use to S.H.I.E.L.D., I will not prevent Agent Amos from prosecuting you.”

“I understand,” said Sara. 

“So that will be all.” He stood up, and so did Sara. They shook hands. 

“Do you have a ride?”

“My boyfriend is waiting for me at the cafe across the street. He’ll take me home.” 

“I’m glad to hear that.” Coulson asked her for details about her boyfriend. 

Clearly whatever it was she did with Bucky it wasn’t romantic, Hillary thought. Then Agent Amos called her over from his office to ask her something. When she came out, she  
went to the balcony to see if she could catch up with Sara. Sara was already bundled up and walking out the door. The snow was falling down thick and fast outside.  
Hillary went back into the breakroom. Coulson was in there, humming something as he stirred his pasta and ate it. He’d put some of the ramen he’d made into a styrofoam bowl.

“Hey, Coulson,” said Hillary as she came into the room.

“Hey, Hillary,” said Coulson. “You want some ramen?”

“No thanks,” she said. She was still full from Subway and she was going to hold out for a nicer meal later. And what was more, the interview with Sara hadn’t agreed with her stomach. 

“So how do you think it went?” asked Coulson.

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“And what does that mean?” Coulson gave her an examining look. Hillary guessed that he needed her to be more specific--he didn’t suspect her, did he?

Hillary took a deep breath. “It means that I think we were a little hard on her. I mean, why did we want to interrogate her in the first place?”

“So we could find out more about the attack.”

“That is true. And it wasn’t hard to get information from her on that regard. But then you had to ask her about the Winter Soldier. Why was that?”

“I was just doing my job,” said Coulson, stirring his ramen. “I mean, we’re pretty sure he’s the reason Hydra was there. And it’s on the security videos and everything. I just wanted to know why he was there.” 

“Okay. But did it ever occur to you that she might not want to talk about that?”

“No, but it wasn’t supposed to matter whether or not she wanted to talk about it.” 

“Well...to be brutally honest,” said Hillary (and she wasn’t being brutally honest at all), “it bothers me that S.H.I.E.L.D. is interested in finding him at all. I mean, it’s one thing if Captain Rogers asked us to keep an eye out for him--”

“And he did,” said Coulson. “I was there when he asked me to.”

“I’ll give you that. But you heard Sara, at the end. Do you call this trying to help someone, hunting them down like they’re some menace to society?”

“For all we know, Hillary, he could be,” said Coulson. “This guy spent seventy years as an assassin for Hydra. Brainwashed or not, he committed unspeakable crimes. It’s not  
going to be easy for him to turn that kind of a life around. S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t taking any chances.” 

Hillary fell silent. That wasn’t the Bucky she knew...or was it? Her mother had mentioned that he had nightmares. He stayed silent and away from people most of the time he was at the garage. Maybe he had stopped, but it wasn’t easy for him.

“But you don’t believe that about him, do you?” asked Hillary.

Coulson slurped his noodles. 

“You know, I did once. I thought maybe Bucky would remember himself in due time. But the longer we go without hearing from him, the more I start to doubt.” Coulson looked gloomily down at his bowl of noodle fragments.

“You know it’s a bad idea, giving in to your doubts.”

“I have to be reasonable.” 

“To an extent, yeah. But you can’t let your doubts interfere with the truth any more than you’d let your hopes.”

Coulson took a minute to think about it. “That makes sense. But that’s what S.H.I.E.L.D. does, though, Hillary: we have to take into account that some people are going to cause trouble. And it’s not only that. I worry that Hydra is looking for Bucky. Why do you think they would have come out into the open like they did last October, started firing into a mall full of innocent people, just to get their hands on a homeless guy? If we can keep tabs on him, then we can protect him better.”

“I understand where you’re coming from,” said Hillary. “But I need you to consider what Steve would be doing in your place. He wouldn’t approve of you treating people like criminal suspects. Especially if you’re trying to find Bucky.”

“I agree,” said Coulson. He dabbed his face with a napkin. “Well, I have some desk work for you and Mitch. S.H.I.E.L.D. has put together a database of potential suspects from the people who worked at the mall last October. I need you to sort through and see who may be able to give us the most information. We already have had enough witnesses: what we need are the people who may have given the tip to Hydra. I need to go talk to the police chief.”

“Got it,” said Hillary, standing up. Hillary went into the agents’ work area. Mitch was already seated at one of the cubicles. 

“How’s it goin’?” Mitch asked her as she entered.

“Goin’ fine,” said Hillary. She pulled up the empty chair next to Mitch’s work station. “Mind if I sit here?”

“Not at all.”

Hillary sat down. “What are you working on?”

“Going through the database, like he asked me to,” said Mitch, scrolling idly down an Excel sheet.

“I can help you with that. Where’s everybody else at?”

“They’re all on an assignment,” said Mitch. “Chasing down a smuggler who might have alien technology. Coulson and us are just here to worry about Hydra apparently.”

“Apparently.” 

Mitch sniffed. “Hydra. I’ve been working at S.H.I.E.L.D. for a month and I still have no idea what’s going on. I mean, I know it’s a big deal and everything, but it seems like they’re  
up to something different every time we catch them.”

“Well, I’d have thought you’d have had time by now to read up in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s recent history and stuff since you joined.”

“Nah, I’m still working through it. I keep getting snowed under all of this homework you guys send me. Slowly but surely.”

“So that’s why you haven’t heard about Bucky yet.”

“Yeah, you’ve got me stumped,” said Mitch. “I guess I’ll read about it when I get to that part of the briefing packet--”

“Or maybe you should just skip ahead,” said Hillary.

“Probably smart, if we’re looking for this guy.”

“Yeah. Or maybe if we get the chance I can introduce you to Steve Rogers. And he’ll tell you what’s going on.”

“That’s right, you and Cap were friends, weren’t you?” 

“Yeah.”

“Well, another time,” Mitch said, stretching in his seat.

Whatever it was Coulson was doing, he was taking his sweet time doing it. That left Hillary with Mitch to go through the potential suspects list and narrow down who might have been in place on a certain day four months ago to give Hydra a message about their Asset. 

When Hillary took a break half an hour later, she wondered, why had she been talking to Coulson like that earlier, telling him not to treat Sara or Bucky like criminals? Had she been secretly defending herself, manipulating Coulson in case she got caught later? 

But she had to conclude that her intentions were sincere. Coulson did get carried away sometimes, in trying to put S.H.I.E.L.D.’s agenda first in everything. But Hillary told herself she’d have to be careful in the future, not to be buttering him up on purpose. 

Coulson eventually returned and helped them go through the suspect list. They made phone calls to several people that afternoon, mostly unsuspecting civilians. Some of them had been at the mall on the day of the attack but didn’t really have much to say. After a few minutes talking to each of the people in this category Hillary didn’t think any of them had much to offer. A few had not even been there and were on the phone call list on accident--Hillary got cussed out over the phone in one instance. 

One thing Coulson did do was call the manager of the food court at River Heights mall. He said he would come in the next day to talk to them.  
It snowed constantly for the next twenty-four hours. They stayed at a fairly comfortable LaQuinta Inn and Suites a few blocks away from the S.H.I.E.L.D. office. 

The Food Court manager’s name was Will Brooks. He was tall and bald but he was a fairly pleasant fellow. He wasn’t at all uncomfortable with the questioning process--in fact Coulson was doing his utmost to make him comfortable.

“It hurts me that one of my own employees would do this,” said Brooks. “Calling up some armed thugs to attack an innocent man--and a store full of shoppers besides.”  
Brooks had brought a file with the names and contact info of his employees dating back to last October. He was happy to go through it in the computer with them. After an afternoon’s searching they found six names that matched their own list. Two of them came in for questioning that afternoon, and the other four came on Saturday--not at all put off by the falling snow and slick streets. But for none of them was there any legitimate connection to Hydra, not for themselves or their coworkers. 

Mr. Brooks, however, offered to allow the S.H.I.E.L.D. team to come to the mall to talk to the managers of the individual stores and restaurants on Monday.  
All of this had been wrapped up by Saturday afternoon. Coulson, Mitch, and Hillary went back to their hotel. Agent Amos and the Minneapolis S.H.I.E.L.D. staff wanted to take them out to dinner. 

It was just after four o’clock local time. Which meant it was just after three in Arizona. Hillary thought she ought to call her family and see how they were doing. And she wanted to check on the friend staying at her dad’s garage. 

As the phone rang on the other end, she wondered what she would tell Bucky. Would she ask him if he had been in Minneapolis? if he had met Sara? What would he think of her if she did?

Her dad answered the phone. He spoke with her briefly. 

“Well, hey,” Trey said after a moment, “I’m kind of busy at the moment, but Bucky here doesn’t have anything to do right now. Do you want to talk to him?”

“Sure,” said Hillary. Her mouth went kind of dry. “And I’ll...I’ll call again tomorrow and talk to you and Mom, okay?”

“Okay.”

She said goodbye to her dad and he handed off his phone.

“Hello,” said Bucky.

“Hi. How are you doing?” Hillary asked him. 

“Doing okay,” said Bucky. “It’s been kind of busy here. I was just...taking a break right now. Your dad lets me do that.”

“That’s nice of him. How has your week been?”

“It’s been all right. Nothing unusual or exciting happening here. How are things with you?”

“They’re...they’re going fine,” said Hillary. She looked out the window. “It’s been snowing pretty much off and on ever since I got here.”

“Yeah, I bet. Are you keeping warm?”

“Yeah, it’s not, terribly cold, actually, for how far north it is.” 

She wasn’t going to tell him anything. She just couldn’t.

“So what’s S.H.I.E.L.D. been doing?”

“We’ve been investigating that mall shooting that was back in October. The one I told you about, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. Any luck?”

“No. We’re...trying to figure out...how Hydra got called there. Apparently they were looking for someone.” She knew she should just ask him. But she wasn’t going to ask him  
anything that she would be responsible for telling S.H.I.E.L.D. about.

“That’s too bad for them,” said Bucky. His tone also sounded a little forced. 

It’s not too late. But she had to ignore the thought. 

“Yeah...and too bad for all of the people who were in the mall at the same time.”

“But nobody got killed, right?”

“No. There were just a lot of injuries, though. And a lot of negative attention from the press.”

“Well...I hope you find out who was responsible.”

“I hope so, too.”

“Well, don’t get too cold and wet up there,” said Bucky smugly. “And I hope you don’t get too jealous of me down here, all nice and warm and dry.”

Hillary laughed. “You can just rub it in my face all day if you want to. Who’s got you for the weekend?”

“Benny and them.”

“Okay. Do you have any plans?”

“Nope. We’re just going to go out tonight and paint the town red, like we did last month.”

“All right, then. Well, you enjoy yourself.”

“I’ll try that, but I might not get to. It just so happens that I’m….cursed so that I can’t get drunk without difficulty.”

“Ah. So you’re the designated driver.”

“Yeah, you might say that. The job description is actually a lot more involved.”

“I’m sure it is. You just stay out of trouble, okay?”

“Don’t I always?”

“Right. I’ll text you on Monday.”

“You do that.”

“Have a good one.”

“Bye.”

She hung up. 

Casually talking to a person on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s wanted list was getting way too easy for her. And plus she hadn’t said anything to him about Sara. She should have asked him if he’d been in Minneapolis. 

Well, maybe it wasn’t really any of her business, where he’d been and who he’d been with.

She couldn’t tell S.H.I.E.L.D. about Bucky. She couldn’t tell Bucky about Sara. She couldn’t always be open with the people she needed to talk to the most, on the subjects that mattered the most. She had to always be hiding something from somebody. 

Hillary and her S.H.I.E.L.D. coworkers went to dinner at a Middle Eastern restaurant in downtown Minneapolis: the food was excellent and the conversation lively. Afterward, she came back to her hotel room and slumped herself into her desk chair. She was full and exhausted. Feeling idle, she opened her laptop to Facebook. Sara Martin was on chat.  
It had been two days since the interview. She felt a little guilty about it but not as much. Now was as good a time as any

Hillary Morgan Tanner: Hi Sara.

Sara Martin: Hi. Are you still in Minneapolis?

Hillary Morgan Tanner: Yeah. We’re likely to be up here until the middle of next week, Coulson says. This investigation isn’t going very well. 

Sara Martin: I’m sorry to hear about that. I really wish I was able to help you guys out.

Hillary wasn’t entirely sure how to reply. She decided to go for broke.

Hillary Morgan Tanner: It’s okay. For the record, I don’t think we really got any useful information out of you when we talked to you on Thursday. I mean we already knew...what they were after.

Sara Martin: I understand. 

Hillary Morgan Tanner: I would also like you to know that I’m sorry about the way I treated you. I’m sorry for the way S.H.I.E.L.D. treated you, too. It wasn’t right for any of us to  
press you into sharing something like that. We didn’t know you wouldn’t have any other information to give us.

Sara was a long thirty seconds in replying.

Sara Martin: Well, that’s right, you didn’t know that my information wasn’t going to help. And it won’t. But I know your treatment of me wasn’t anything personal. You were just doing your job. I do forgive you.

Hillary Morgan Tanner: That’s the best news I’ve heard all week. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.

Sara Martin: Then I won’t.

Hillary didn’t know what to say to her next. She was tempted, while they were on the subject, to ask if she had told Steve Rogers anything, but then she remembered what Sara had mentioned about a promise to Bucky. 

The thought sickened her, that someone else was hiding the truth from Steve. 

Hillary was more tempted than ever to tell Sara the truth. She needed to know if Sara understood what it was like to be burdened like this. But then what would Sara think of her? Would she see Hillary the way Hillary feared to be seen: as a liar? 

But Sara popped up another question to ask Hillary about how she liked working with Coulson. There were also a few odd questions about Mitch. Sara said goodnight after several minutes and signed off. Hillary got off of Facebook as well and got ready for bed. 

Maybe things are going to be just fine, Hillary thought to herself. Maybe I won’t ever have to tell anybody...

 

The neon lights of El Capitan’s Bar and Grill blinked as Benny and Pablo and their companions stumbled outside to the steady beat of the Pina Colada song. Bucky was the tail end of the group, and as he crossed the threshold he turned and gave a polite nod to the bartender as the latter turned the door sign to CLOSED. 

The others were talking to each other in slobbering, incoherent voices. Swearwords slipped off their tongues with every other breath. Pablo’s friend O’Niel slapped his hand around Pablo’s shoulder as he tried to lean on his friend. They walked across the parking lot to Benny’s car with stiff, slow movements, like zombies. 

Bucky was tired but still composed. The others had come over to Benny’s earlier that night and agreed to carpool. Bucky volunteered right away to be the designated driver. Of course he had drunk as much as the rest put together, but being a genetically engineered super-soldier the effects were negligible. So he was their best bet for a safe ride home.  
Benny walked up to the driver’s side door and pulled at the door handle feebly a few times before opening it. He began to sit down, but Bucky walked up to stop him.

“Hey, I’m driving,” said Bucky, moving up behind Benny. He gently pulled him away from the driver’s seat and then released him. Benny stumbled backwards.

“Oh, yeah, that’s reminding me,” said Benny. “You’re the dedicated driver.”

“Designated,” Bucky corrected him. 

“Dedicated. Designated, right, whatever,” said Benny. Pablo held open the door for him. Benny crawled onto the backseat on his hands and knees and sat up in the middle.

“Dedicated. Designated. Desisignated. Dismigated,” mumbled O’Niel.

Pablo gave a roar of drunken laughter and gave O’Niel a slurred rebuke full of X-rated epithets.

O’Niel and Pablo sat on either side of Benny in the back while their friend Magnum took the passenger seat.

“Well, of course I’m a dedicated driver as well,” said Bucky. “I can be both dedicated and designated.” He started the car.

“Well, how come you can drink so much vodka and still be sober enough to drive?” asked Magnum. “You drank a lot of vodka, man. You Russian?”

“I might be,” said Bucky as they exited the parking lot. He’d had two bottles of vodka, just for a change after he’d gotten tired of the beer. 

“Bucky is a homeless man,” said Benny, leaning forward to speak with Magnum as though explaining some great thing. “Old man Tanner, he took him in, let him stay in the  
garage.” 

“That’s nice of him,” said Magnum. 

Pablo suddenly thought of a lewd joke. The others howled with laughter but Bucky concentrated on driving, only taking his eyes off the road to roll them at the others. Benny and  
Pablo were all right when they were sober, but when intoxicated they were immature and imbecilic. 

Bucky heard a clicking sound below him and caught Magnum messing with the controls on the dashboard.

“What are you doing, man?”

“I’m trying to turn on the radio,” said Magnum. 

“You don’t need to do that,” said Bucky. “Just let me drive, okay?” Bucky swatted Magnum’s hand gently. He didn’t need much discouragement. 

They turned the corner onto Brown Road. Bucky thought maybe he had veered a little too far when he made the turn. The streets were mostly empty, but just past where they had  
come onto the road there was a police car parked. They hadn’t gone far when the lights on the police vehicle sprang to life and it began to follow them.

“Are we being stopped?” Bucky asked.

“Aw, man, we got the cops after us,” said Pablo. 

“What you done do man? You gonna get us arrested?” asked Benny.

Bucky pulled over while O’Niel and Magnum added their murmurs of agreement. The police car parked right behind them. The policeman was medium build, a little wide around the middle, and what little hair he had on the sides of his head was buzzed.

He came around to the driver’s window and Bucky rolled down for him. 

“Good evening,” said the policeman.

“Hey,” said Bucky quietly.

“Are we out for a little joyride tonight?”

“Yeah, we’re just getting back from El Capitan’s,” said Bucky. The guys in the back were yelling about something lewd, but Magnum hushed them.

“I see,” said the officer. “Are you the designated driver?”

“Yes, sir,” said Bucky.

“But do I have any reason to believe you haven’t had anything to drink tonight?”

“No. My stomach takes it better than most.”

“He didn’t drink anything, officer,” said O’Niel. “He’s cold sober, he is.”

“Don’t lie to the cops, man,” said Pablo. “He is--”

“Shut up!” said Benny.

Pablo protested but Benny cussed him out.

“I see,” said the officer. “Do you have a driver’s license with you, sir?”

“Yes, I do, officer,” said Bucky, reaching for the wallet in his jacket pocket. He was conscious of the officer’s eyes watching the glove that was over his left hand. Bucky pulled out  
the fake driver’s license and hoped it would be enough to satisfy the officer. He wasn’t sure if he would pass a breath test. 

The policeman scrutinized the license. “Hm, Jason Retniw. Are you from around here, Mr. Retniw?”

“No, I’m--I’ve moved around a bit. I’ve only lived in Mesa for a few months now.”

The policeman looked skeptical.

Bucky did not want to get arrested by this guy.

“He’s from around here, sir,” said Benny, speaking up. “I can vouch for him.”

Bucky whipped around. “Benny! I will thank you to keep your mouth zipped shut right now. You’re not helping anything.” He felt angry but tried to show as little of it as  
possible. 

Benny swore at him. “I am just helping you out, Bucky--his name is officer, Bucky, I mean Bucky, officer.”

The policeman scrutinized the driver’s license harder. “And Bucky, is that short for--”

“Bitner,” said Bucky. “It’s a nickname my friends gave me.”

“What’s that short for again, man?” asked Benny. 

“It’s not short for anything!” Bucky snapped at him. He swore at Benny. “Sorry about that, officer. My friend was just a little excited. But you know how people get, when they’re drunk.”

The policeman stared at Bucky. Then he handed back the driver’s license. “I don’t got all night for you chumps.”

“I don’t either, sir,” said Bucky, sitting up straight. “I’ll get these boys back to their home safely, sir.”

“You drive carefully or it’ll be a warning next time.”

“You got it,” said Bucky. He said goodnight to the policeman and pulled away. 

He fumed privately to himself as he drove the rest of the way to Benny’s apartment. The four passengers stumbled out on arrival. O’Niel puked immediately on the dead grass and gave Bucky a chewing out for not driving straight. Magnum tripped on the sidewalk and Bucky and Benny helped him up--or rather Bucky helped the two of them after Benny fell down beside Magnum. Pablo got into his car right away and sped off into the night, his tires screeching. Magnum and the other two stayed on the front porch of the apartment building and talked for a few moments before Magnum left. O’Niel was still feeling unwell and went up to Benny’s apartment to rest. Bucky had to help Benny unlock the door. 

When the other two had gone inside, Bucky returned to the outside of the apartments. 

“Who am I kidding?” he muttered to himself, kicking a rock on the pavement. He leaned against the brick wall and sat down. 

He had had enough of tagging along with these idiots on the weekends. Getting pulled over was one thing, but the next time it could be an arrest, and before he knew it either he would be in prison and at the mercy of S.H.I.E.L.D. or he would have caused a massacre in order to escape. There was no way he could stay out of trouble with these guys: that police officer had noticed something wrong with his hand. It wouldn’t have taken much searching to realize he had a whole arm made of metal. 

He rubbed his fingers through his hair. And then he stopped. He pulled off the glove. 

There was no escaping. The best he could hope for was to hide and to hope that the people who were helping him didn’t tell anyone. And hope that nobody else found out that he was different. As if he didn’t have enough problems already…

He hated this life. He hated having to lie low at the garage during the weekdays and then to lie low some more at somebody’s house on the weekends. Sure, he had a roof over his head and a bed and something to eat, but at what price? 

Benny and Pablo meant well, he was sure. But Bucky knew that even though he was blessed--or was it cursed--to not be affected by alcohol, he was just as stupid as the rest of them. Just as much of a jerk, because of all the pain he had to put others through, all the inconvenience he caused to others. And then there was the fact that he was a coward, that he wouldn’t own up to his past, not Captain America or Hydra or any of it. 

He still went by that name that Steve Rogers had given him. Because it was the first name he had ever heard anyone call him. But sometimes he wished he’d never heard it. 

The people who knew who Bucky was--they branded him.

The people who didn’t know--they asked questions.

Being out and alone in the world was terrible. At least Hydra had made him forget. On his own, he had to live with himself, with the fact that, though brainwashed, though controlled, he had done terrible things. Even after all this time, even though things were so different for him now, on the outside…

On the inside, he was a monster. There was just no getting past that.

Well, no, Bucky thought to himself. I did have the decency to drive these guys home tonight, didn’t I? And when I could have just drove them all into a lake. No. I can do some things right.

It was small comfort, but it was something.

 

Snow fell gently on the Minnesota forest. Through her window, Sara could see the flakes and the outlines of the trees around their house. But she couldn’t see the sky. She would have liked to. She liked to look up at the night sky and think of how she had been there once. And she liked to wonder that somewhere, under that same sky, was someone who had gone with her.

She sat on the window seat with her hands on her knees. Then when she didn’t want to, she stepped onto the wood floor, making as little noise as possible with her bare feet. She walked across the floor of her bedroom and out into the hallway, then down the stairs. She moved slowly, remembering. 

She remembered it the way one would remember a dream. But it had been a beautiful dream, and a very real one.

Her boyfriend knew that she used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D.. But he didn’t know she had been friends with Captain America. He would hear about that, someday. But as for Bucky’s story, she would keep that to herself, for now. She had promised not to tell anyone. And so far, she had kept it--even when interrogated by her former coworkers. 

Sara shared her life with someone else now. But this dream, this miracle, she kept to herself. 

She had reached the open space between the dining room and the kitchen floor. She held out her bathrobe and spun. She bowed to the thin air and she danced. 

But maybe it didn’t have to be a secret forever. 

And it wasn’t just about herself, either. She and Bucky had gotten close on their journey together. She wanted him to be happy. 

She felt sad, sometimes, that she had promised not to tell. But Bucky Barnes, wherever he was now, was long gone from her life. Whatever they had been through together would be of no help to anyone looking for him now. 

But Sara wondered if maybe, someday, after Captain Rogers had come back from working with the Avengers--if he stopped that long enough just to find the right lead, to the right place--then maybe she and Bucky could renew their friendship. He would be happy for her, she knew, in the progress she had made. Only a few weeks after their meeting her life had turned completely around. Something about that journey they had taken had changed her. If Bucky’s life had turned around as well, then she would like to see how he was doing. 

It was a fine thought, but mostly she just wanted Bucky to be happy again. And she wanted Steve to be happy as well. She still followed Steve on Facebook. She still saw the posts he put up sometimes, filled with longing and desperate for answers. Until recently, Sara’s life had been incomplete, so she knew how it felt, not having the one thing that made you feel like you had everything. 

She wondered where Bucky was right now, if he was safe. She wondered if he was any closer to remembering who he was.

And if Steve wasn’t around, then Sara wondered if Bucky had someone who loved him. Had he gone back to Denver to be with Grace? Had he found someone new? Or maybe it wasn’t a romantic love, but a friend. Someone watching over him the way she had once. 

She looked out one of the living room windows. They had changed each other, that was certain. She could only hope that he realized what that meant--and what it had meant to her.

 

Sunday came and went. Monday morning, Coulson, Mitch, and Hillary went to the River Heights Mall. They came in through the Food Court entrance. Will Brooks was waiting for them in the dining area along with his assistant, Paul Bentley. They spent several minutes walking around the food court and the mall, talking about how the attack had happened. Brooks had had the day off that fateful day in October, but Bentley filled them in on the details he recalled as well as what he had learned from police, mall security, and eyewitnesses. Bentley walked them over to a spot near the escalator.

“Several witnesses have said that it was in this spot that one guy single handedly took on four of the attackers.”

“That must’ve been...the man we’re looking for,” said Coulson. He gazed at the ground in awe. 

“Yeah, it was on the security camera footage,” said Hillary. “It was right here. So what happened to the attackers again?”

“One of the assailants was killed, the rest were knocked unconscious,” said Brooks. “But the ones that survived, as soon as they came around they killed themselves with cyanide.”

“That’s right, that was in the report,” said Mitch, nodding. 

“Typical Hydra,” said Coulson, bending down to the ground. “They neither take prisoners nor allow themselves to be taken.”

“Well, technically Bucky Barnes was a prisoner,” said Hillary.

“Right. Well, they had use for him,” said Coulson. “Ah, well. What time did you say our meeting was?”

“At twelve-fifteen,” said Bentley. 

“It’s twelve-ten, let’s go,” said Coulson. They started to walk back through the dining area. 

Mitch found himself at the tail end of the group. He was really starting to wonder about all the fuss over this Bucky person, so he wasn’t watching. And then he bumped into an  
old man sitting at a table.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Mitch, backing away.

“It’s all right, it’s all right, son,” said the old man, adjusting his glasses. “Are you looking for something?” 

“No, I’m just--I need to be following my friends.”

“They don’t look like your friends.”

“Well…” Mitch didn’t have time to stop and argue. He wondered if maybe the man would still be there later, but as he turned to follow his work supervisor and his coworker to a  
hallway between two of the restaurants, he realized that he didn’t get the time to stop and chat with random passerby very much in this job. 

Down the hallway there was a door, at which Coulson stopped to wait for Mitch. They went through the door to an office space with a meeting room. At the table were sitting two individuals who were introduced as the managers of two of the restaurants in the food court. Coulson had one of them leave, and the other was questioned about the employees who had been through their business in the last four months. The first manager had nothing to report. Neither did the second. The eight restaurant managers total that were interviewed had nothing to say about suspicious behavior from anyone who worked for them prior to the attack. The Quiznos manager said that he had seen the stranger who had fought off the shooters order from his restaurant with a girl. 

After the last manager had left, Hillary said, “That got us nowhere.”

“No, it didn’t,” said Coulson. 

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m hungry,” said Mitch. 

“Should we eat here?” asked Hillary.

“Might as well,” said Coulson. 

Mitch and Coulson went to the Chinese restaurant, while Hillary ducked off to Quiznos. 

I guess she’s thinking about Sara, Mitch thought. 

The old man had left. The interviews had taken an hour and a half, with each person they had talked to taking about ten to fifteen minutes each. 

Hillary rejoined Mitch and Coulson with her sandwich. They talked over the results of the interviews while eating. 

When Hillary had finished her sub, she stared idly off to one side as Coulson reminisced to Mitch about something that had happened with Agent Barton a long time ago. 

“Well, you know what I think?” Hillary said suddenly.

“What?” asked Coulson.

“I think we should talk to the managers of some of the stores close to here. One of their employees might have been in the right place to give the tip to Hydra--what do you think?”

“Well, Sara didn’t mention that she took Bucky browsing around the mall, did she?” said Coulson.

“I’m not saying she did,” said Hillary. “But you see those two little boutiques over there? Right by the escalator? Somebody from Hydra could have been working there--or could  
have placed someone there to let them know.” 

“Yeah, I see what you’re getting at,” said Mitch, looking over his shoulder at the stores. 

“Did our suspect list mention anybody who was working in one of the stores next to the food court?”

“It might have mentioned a handful of people. But let’s talk to the managers first and see if it lines up.” 

“That’s good thinking, Emily,” said Coulson, getting up.

“You mean Hillary, right?” said Hillary.

“Oh, Hillary, right, sorry,” said Coulson.

Hillary sighed. “You miss her, don’t you?”

“Yeah...it’s different. Oh well.” Coulson deposited the contents of his tray into a trash receptacle. Hillary and Mitch did likewise. 

They started to walk towards the stores at the edge of the food court. Hillary’s phone went off. She decided she would check it later.

The first store manager they talked to had nothing to report. So did the second. But at Marion Maxfield’s boutique, which sold ripped jeans, lace camisoles and jackets with frayed edges, the manager, by the name of Sandra, took them too her office in the back of the store and told them something interesting.

“There was a girl who worked here at the time of the attack that quit just a few days later. Someone had come in that day asking for a job, so I went ahead and called them back up.”

“What was her name, ma’am?” asked Coulson. “The girl who quit?”

“Lisa,” said Sandra. “Lisa Botts. But I was completely surprised by it. She’d told me just a few days earlier that she was planning to stay through the holidays. I was under the  
impression she liked working here. I’m legally not allowed to give you her contact info--we have a different policy from the food court.”

“Looking her up shouldn’t be a problem,” said Hillary.

“How long had she been working for you?” asked Mitch, who took notes.

“Since before Labor Day. She’d had several jobs off and on over the last year, if I recall. She was working to pay off a credit card bill.”

“And did she say when she quit why she was leaving?”

“She didn’t,” said Sandra. “She only said she didn’t have to work anymore.” 

“Hm,” said Hillary, “I wonder if she suddenly found a means of paying that bill off.” 

“Is there anything else about Lisa that you think we’d like to know?” asked Couslon.

“No, I don’t,” said Sandra. “She was a ...perfectly normal person. A little prone to spending money, if you ask me. She was taking classes at the community college last year but  
dropped out due to expenses. But she was planning on going back. She wanted to be a dental hygeneist.”

“Which community college?” 

“I think it was Eastside. That’s the closest one to here.”

“That’s cool,” Coulson nodded. “And can you tell us if you noticed anything particular on the day of the attack?”

“Last October...golly, I can’t remember that far back,” said Sandra. “She must have come back from her lunch break a few minutes before the shooting started--she usually ate  
out in the food court, it’s right there. But as soon as the guys with the guns came in, it was pandemodium. A few people stepped out to see what was happening but then people  
started running in to hide. Me and one of the other girls closed the security gate and everyone hid behind the display racks. Fortunately the shooters kept going down the hall,  
but we stayed down for the next few minutes until the shooting had stopped.”

“That must have been terrible,” said Coulson.

“Well, none of the actual stores sustained any damage. We had a few things knocked on the floor, but nothing broken, thank goodness,” said Sandra.

“Well, thank you for your cooperation, Sandra,” said Coulson. He gave Sandra his business card. “If you have any questions, let us know.”

“Thank you, sir.” Sandra shook hands with Coulson, and the three S.H.I.E.L.D. agents left the office. 

Mitch checked a list that he kept on his smartphone as they exited the boutique. “Lisa Botts. You know, that name actually didn’t come up on the suspect lists.”

“I wonder if she’s actually Hydra,” said Coulson. “It would have made sense for them to use a go-between, cover their tracks a little.”

“I’d feel bad, though, if this chick didn’t know what she was getting into,” said Hillary. She checked her phone to read the text from earlier. 

 

Hi, Hillary, how is your Monday going? --B

She smirked. She texted him back on the way to their rental car, and they went back and forth while they drove back to the S.H.I.E.L.D. office.

Hillary: You’ve got some nerve to text me while I’m at work. But good news: we might just be starting to make some headway on this case. How was your Saturday and Sunday?

Bucky: It was all right. Pablo and Benny and I stayed out of trouble. They’re both hung over and Benny went right home after dropping me off.

Hillary: how terrible!

Bucky: yeah, your dad’s not too thrilled either. And I got an annoying song about Pinya Colata stuck in my head. 

Hillary snickered. 

“Who are you texting?” asked Coulson.

“A friend. Back home.”

“Oh.”

Hillary: The Pina Colada song? That’s lame.

Bucky: What is Pina Colada anyway?

Hillary: a drink. More or less alcoholic. 

Bucky: Well, we’ve got a lot of customers today and we’re short-staffed, so I need to go help your dad. He says hello, btw. I’ll talk to you later.

Hillary: Laters.

Back at the Minneapolis S.H.I.E.L.D. office, Hillary and Mitch went to work trying to look up Lisa Botts. She wasn’t in the Eastside Community College database. She was, however, listed as currently working for Olive Garden nearby.

Hillary was asked to make the call. After several minutes on hold, she finally spoke with the Wait Staff Manager. He put her on hold again for a much shorter time. A feeble female voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Lisa?”

“Yes, it is. Who is this?”

“My name is Hillary. I’m calling on behalf of the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division. You may know us as S.H.I.E.L.D..”

“Okay...I’ve never heard of you guys but whatever. What can I do for you?”

“I’m calling because we believe you were present for the shooting at the mall last October. Is that correct?”

“The shooting? Last fall?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, yeah. That. Yeah, I was there. I was working right next to the food court in one of the stores.”

“Well, we just wanted to ask you a few questions, and we were wondering if we could take the time to visit with you sometime this week?”

“You want to meet with me? To talk to me?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Sure. I’m not working tomorrow. Where would you like to meet?”

“Could you come to our office tomorrow afternoon?”

“Sure. Where’s that at?”

Hillary gave Lisa the address and Lisa was able to write it down on her end. They agreed to meet at two o’clock.

Hillary hung up. “Well, that was easy.”

“I should think so,” said Coulson. “Most people don’t like being called up for interrogation.”

“Well, she says she’s never even heard of us,” said Hillary. “So I don’t think she knows what this is about, if she was involved at all. In fact I wonder if we’ve got the right person.”

Coulson furrowed his brow. “I wonder if Hydra is watching her at all. It could mean trouble, if they know we’re on to her.”

“You’re right,” said Hillary. “It would look bad, if anything happened to her before we met with her.”

“But it’s not legal for us to stake her out,” said Coulson. “Even for her own protection.”

“Well...for lack of a nicer word, does it seem like she’s a bit of a ditz?” asked Mitch.

“Well, some people can sound less intelligent over the phone,” said Hillary. “We’ll get to know her better tomorrow.”

“That’s true,” said Coulson. “But I wouldn’t put it past Hydra to manipulate someone who didn’t know better. She hadn’t heard of S.H.I.E.L.D. before now, in spite of everything on the news.”

“I’d be shocked if she was that ignorant,” said Mitch.

“Or maybe she’s heard of us but hasn’t figured out that that’s who’s calling her.”

“But either way,” said Coulson, “if she isn’t afraid of S.H.I.E.L.D., then Hydra would use her--she wouldn’t know to call us for help.”

“She wouldn’t call anyone for help if she knew she was being manipulated,” said Mitch.

“Exactly. That’s what Hydra does: they’re subtle. And they’ll go after the people that aren’t watching.”

“Well, then maybe they trust her to not get caught by S.H.I.E.L.D.,” said Hillary. “Maybe if they think she won’t get in trouble, then they’re not watching her. I’ll bet you she’ll show  
up here tomorrow at three o’clock, and neither she nor Hydra will be the wiser.” 

“It’s a slim chance, but we can take it,” said Coulson. 

 

Hillary made a long phone call home that night and even got to conference call with Greg and Julia. Tuesday morning passed without much notice. At two fifty-five, the secretary at the front desk of the S.H.I.E.L.D. office came upstairs.

“There’s a lady here who says she was called in to talk to you guys,” said the secretary. “Name of Lisa.”

“That’s her,” said Coulson. “Send her up.”

Lisa Botts was a rather skinny woman a few years older than Hillary who wore her blonde hair in a ponytail. She wore platform shoes that made her appear taller than she actually  
was, and kept a rugged-looking hoodie draped over her shoulders. Hillary would have liked her to take the jacket off so they could see her frilly, plum-colored blouse but she  
never did. Coulson greeted her warmly and they took her to the interrogation room.

“So tell us a little about yourself, Lisa,” said Coulson once they had sat down.

“Well…” Lisa looked around nervously. “I’m in the dental hygiene program at Eastside Community College. But right now I’m working so I can save up to go back to school.”

“So how long have you been working at Olive Garden?” 

“Since the first of the year. I got hired right after the holidays. I quit working at the mall in October.”

“Okay, and why did you do that?”

“Well, I did a job for a friend and she was able to pay me for it--quite a bit, actually.” Lisa smiled. “And so I paid off my credit card and took a couple of months off from  
working.”

“I see,” said Coulson. “What was this job?”

“I was asked to look for someone. And if I saw them, to call up my friend and let her know I’d seen them.”

“How much were you being paid?” asked Hillary.

“Five thousand dollars.” 

“A handsome sum,” said Coulson. “Do you know where they got the money?”

“No. But I think it was a reward-type thing. My friend who gave me this job worked for a missing persons network.”

“So who was this friend?”

“Katelyn’s her name. Katelyn Brown. Last summer I took a summer class at Eastside. Katelyn and I were in the Biology Ten Hundred class together. She helped me out a lot with  
the homework, it was kind of a tough class, and you know how summer classes go, in college, since they’re shorter. But she had just had a career change, so she was in the dental hygiene program, too. So we worked together, and we got to be friends. Then last September, when I was working at the mall, she called me up and asked me for a favor.” Lisa dug into her pants pocket for her phone and started scrolling through a picture album. “Katelyn wanted to help me out. She said if I saw this person at the mall or anywhere else in Minneapolis she could get me a lot of money.” 

“And you found him, I take it?”

“Him? Yeah, I did.” Lisa passed her phone over to Coulson. 

It must have been a photo from when he had been the Winter Soldier--just a headshot of him with greasy hair and a stonelike face--it had almost a menacing look to it. When it  
had been taken or how Hillary could not have guessed. 

She took her eyes off the phone screen as fast as she could. 

“Could you send us this photo?” asked Coulson.

“Yes,” said Lisa.

Coulson passed her his business card so she could get the phone number. “Did Katelyn say who this person was?”

“No, she didn’t. She just said she was doing it for a missing persons’ organization.”

“Did she say which one?”

“No. But Katelyn noticed that one thing I was good at was remembering the names of body parts and DNA strands and cell things. In fact I helped her with that more than once.  
But she thought I’d be good at this sort of thing. Like I said, she knew I could use the money.”

“Have you and Katelyn kept in touch?” asked Hillary.

“Yeah, we’re friends on Facebook and all that. But we haven’t talked to each other directly since I told her I saw the guy.”

“Where did you see him?” asked Coulson.

“In the food court at the mall. That was the day of the shooting, as a matter of fact. He was there with some blonde girl who was buying him lunch. They ate at Quiznos. I’d ordered at the restaurant next door. So I’d noticed them, yeah. I sent a text to Katelyn saying I’d seen him at the mall and then I finished my lunch break. A few minutes later the shooting began.” Lisa scrunched her face at them. “You don’t think...that was the guy the shooters were after, do you? A lot of people who were trapped in my store were saying they were after somebody.”

“That’s what we are trying to figure out,” said Coulson. 

Maybe she isn’t a lost cause, Hillary thought.

“Has Katelyn been in contact with you since the shooting?”

“No, she hasn’t,” said Lisa. “She texted me a few days later saying there would be a check in the mail for me. I cashed the check, quit my job, and the rest is history.” 

“Is there anything else in particular you can tell us about Katelyn?”

Lisa leaned back a little in her chair. “Well..did Katelyn do something wrong? You guys work for the government, right?”

“We’re trying to make sure that the man Katelyn was looking for is safe,” said Coulson. 

“Uh...okay,” said Lisa. 

“But anyway, tell us about Katelyn.”

“She liked to talk politics, as a matter of fact.”

“Politics?”

“Yeah. She’d bring it up when we were outside of class. She had strong opinions, but I wasn’t sure if she was a liberal or a conservative. And she was always posting political  
stuff on her Facebook--didn’t get into online arguments much, though.”

“Hm, very interesting,” said Coulson. “Well, thank you for your time, Miss Bott. If you could just send me that picture.”

“Yes, I can. And I’ve also got Katelyn’s phone number, if you want to talk to her, too.”

“We’d love to, thanks.” 

Lisa texted the picture to Coulson as well as a phone number with a local area code.

He shook hands with Lisa and she left the room just as nonplussed as she had been when she entered.

“I dunno, Boss,” said Mitch once she was out of earshot, “maybe she isn’t as dumb as we thought.”

“Not at all,” said Coulson. “Most people are intelligent, it just takes a certain kind of person to keep all their gears going at once. Now let’s find out about this Katelyn Brown,  
shall we?”

Hillary called the phone number Lisa had given them and left her voice message.

“Hi, Katelyn, this is Agent Hillary Tanner. I am calling on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D.. We wanted to ask you a few questions about the shooting at the River Heights Mall last October. Your friend Lisa says you asked her to help find a missing person who appeared at the mall on that day. We just wanted to know if there were any details you could give us about this.” She repeated the phone number for the local S.H.I.E.L.D. office twice and hung up.

“Well, that voicemail may have been longer than necessary,” said Hillary.

“It’s an art, trying to nail those down,” said Coulson. “And you might not wish you’d given her so many details.”

“Well, if I were on the receiving end of these calls, I’d like to know what it’s about.”

“But if you were Hydra?”

Hillary’s face fell. “Oops.” 

The immediate internet search results showed that the Katelyn Brown with the phone number Lisa had given them lived in the suburbs and worked at a department store. She had  
not been active on Facebook for several weeks, and before then her posts were intermittent. 

When Mitch put her name into the S.H.I.E.L.D. system, however, he got an immediate hit and called over Coulson.

“Katelyn Brown is a false identity that’s being reused,” said Mitch. “It dates back to about six years ago. It was created and used by an Agent Katharine Sowell.”

Coulson looked at the computer screen results in disbelief. “Look up Agent Sowell. Now.”

“Yes, sir,” said Mitch. A minute later he reported the results: “Agent Sowell was discharged in April for having ties to Hydra.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Coulson. “I used to know her. It’s been a few years since I’ve seen her, though--before New York, even. But yeah, this...this is not surprising. She’s  
our link to Hydra.” 

“We’re screwed,” Hillary muttered to herself. 

They found a living address for “Katelyn Brown”. Hillary called the cell phone again but had to leave another voice message. Coulson called up a precinct judge to get an arrest warrant. The judge, however, was busy and told him to call back the next day.

Coulson uploaded the picture Lisa had given them to the S.H.I.E.L.D. computer file on the Winter Soldier. 

Hillary only glanced at it once more that afternoon, but she couldn’t get the picture out of her head. His eyes in the photo were blank and unfeeling--cold was a good word for it. 

She shuddered as she stepped out into the parking lot at the end of the day. 

It wasn’t the Bucky she knew. It wasn’t the Bucky that Steve had once known, either. Not by a long shot.

That night in her hotel room she went through her personal photo album on her phone. She had asked her dad to send her the picture he had taken when Bucky had gone with  
her to the New Year’s Dance. She pulled up that photo to look at it. There was Bucky, his arm awkwardly around her shoulder and his face plastered with that funny smile of his.  
But his eyes were alive. They glowed with emotion. He was happy. 

She sent a text to Bucky’s phone. It wasn’t terribly late in Arizona. He would still be awake.

Hillary: :)

Bucky: Hey, what’s happening?

Hillary: Nothing. I just...wanted to know you were there. 

Bucky: All right then. I’m here.

The next morning, Wednesday, Hillary went down to breakfast in the hotel with Mitch and Coulson. Coulson was anxious to be gone and continue working on their case.  
The first thing they did, Hillary called back Katelyn Brown. She left a third voice message. Coulson had left the room and came back just as she finished. 

“Nothing again, Boss,” she said.

“Well, you can call her again,” said Coulson. “We’ve got a warrant to bring her in for questioning. You can at least tell her we’re coming.”

So Hillary called again. Once again, she was greeted with Katelyn Brown’s voice mail.

“Hello, Katelyn, this is Hillary from S.H.I.E.L.D. again. Since you’ve been unable to respond to our calls, we will be coming over to your place of residence to speak with you in  
person. You can still call us back and let us know if you are able to meet with us. We hope to see you soon.”

They had their weapons concealed inside of their jackets, just in case. The fact that she hadn’t answered their phone calls perturbed all of them, but Coulson the most. They  
spoke very little on the drive to Katherine’s residence. Hillary hoped that this was just a big misunderstanding, or that she would be out or at work or something. But knowing  
Hydra, the situation could be very dangerous. What if she had warned the other Hydra personnel in the area? What if they were walking into a trap?

The address took them to a newer-looking apartment complex in the suburbs. The apartment was on the second floor. They rang the doorbell several times, and between each  
ring Coulson kept his arms folded and rocked back and forth. Hillary looked at the ground--she hated waiting on people to answer the door, especially if they lived in  
apartments. Mitch leaned against the doorpost.

Coulson asked Hillary to call Katherine again. There was no reply. Hillary didn’t bother leaving a message this time. 

After waiting outside for about ten minutes, Hillary said, “Did the warrant give us an authorization for forced entry?”

“Yes it did,” said Coulson grimly. “Mitch?”

Mitch had the kit for undoing the lock with a small explosive. They stood back while they waited for it to detonate. 

“Weapons at the ready,” said Coulson. The three of them drew their guns and held them up. Hillary glanced over her shoulder at the street.  
There was a CRACK and a puff of smoke, and the door swung open. Coulson walked inside. Mitch and Hillary entered behind him.

“All right, this is S.H.I.E.L.D.. Come out with your hands -- “ Coulson’s gaze fell to the floor, and he cussed. 

The wall had been spray-painted with the words HEIL HYDRA in red, uneven letters. On the floor, next to an opened bottle of spray paint, was a woman who looked a little older  
than Hillary, with brown hair in a bun, wearing jeans and a jacket. She didn’t respond in the slightest to their entry.

Coulson knelt down next to the woman’s body. He touched her face. “Cyanide. She’s dead.”

“Wait, what?” said Mitch, astonished.

“Is this Katherine Sowell?” asked Hillary. Mitch lingered in front of the door.

“Yes, it is.” Coulson looked like there was more he wanted to say. 

“How long has she been dead?”

“Just a few minutes,” said Coulson. “She’s still warm. Why don’t you check out the spray paint. Mitch?” They turned around.

Mitch was gazing at the floor, open-mouthed. Then he noticed Hillary and Coulson. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just--I’ve never seen a dead body before.” He held up his hands. “Much less  
the body of someone who’s just killed themselves.” 

Hillary looked at Coulson. I thought you told him this was in the job description, she wanted to say. But she didn’t.

“I’ll be all right, boss,” said Mitch, an audible tremble in his voice. 

“No, it’s fine,” said Coulson. “Do you need a --”

“No, no, I’ve got it.” Mitch stepped forward carefully. He walked around Katherine’s body carefully. 

Hillary picked up the spray paint can. She shook it and read the label on the back. “Says it takes twenty-five minutes to dry. An hour before you can touch it. For best results  
wait twenty-four. Still full. It’s been used before now.”

Hillary touched the paint on the wall, on the letter D in Hydra. It left red on her finger. “Still drying. She must have been waiting for us.” 

“Does she have a cell phone lying around here?” asked Coulson.

“I think--” Mitch gazed around the room, then he looked down at the body. “It might still be on her.”

“Here,” said Coulson. He bent down and reached into Katharine’s pants pocket and handed it to Mitch, but read over his shoulder. They backed away from the body. Coulson was  
able to hack into the phone. She had missed their last call, which put her as dead at least before they were on her doorstep. And then Mitch checked her text messages. 

“Here’s the catch, somebody warned her it was us,” said Mitch. “She got this text yesterday: ‘Kat, S.H.I.E.L.D. is investigating. Run and hide.’”

“Clearly she didn’t.”

“Her response was, ‘if I run they will catch me. They’ll never get me to talk. They must never know.’ And then the reply, ‘You are too valuable an agent. I can arrange to have you  
picked up.’ She never responded.” 

“Mitch, is there a contact name for the number?”

“It says ‘DeWitt,’” said Mitch.

“Get the actual phone number and see if it matches anything.”

Mitch pulled out his cell phone and started scrolling through it. He sat down on the couches in the living room.

“It’s too bad,” said Hillary. “She seemed like someone who had her life together.” It was a fairly nice apartment. She had good furniture, a small TV and a good-sized collection of  
movies.

“Well, maybe she didn’t,” said Mitch, following Hillary’s gaze around the room, then returning to the phone screens. 

Coulson gazed down at the dead body. “We used to call her Kat.” 

“I don’t think I’ve met her,” said Hillary.

“She was...she was just a nice, normal woman,” said Coulson. “Really passionate about working for S.H.I.E.L.D., really loved it. Only a few years older than yourself. Went to Yale.  
Broke my heart when I found out she was Hydra. But then again it broke for a lot of people.” 

Mitch opened Katelyn Brown’s contacts. Hillary and Coulson watched him for a moment as he entered the number into one of his S.H.I.E.L.D. apps.

“Do you think it’s weird, that Hydra just expects its people to throw away their lives at the slightest moment?” 

“No, I don’t, to be honest,” said Coulson. “That’s just how engrained their ideology is. They think it’s so important to set up Hydra’s order over the world that they would rather not live without it. Katherine...S.H.I.E.L.D. was her life. A lot of people, when they were kicked out of S.H.I.E.L.D., Hydra offered them full-time work. But now that Hydra’s out in the open, they have a lot more at stake. So they’ve asked their associates to take cyanide. Captain Rogers once said to me that Hydra saw itself as more important than human life--to the point that it would destroy as much as it needed in order to save.” 

“That’s terrible,” said Hillary quietly. “When do you draw the line, between something you believe in, and living?” 

“I have a match, sir,” Mitch spoke up. “But...you’re not gonna believe this.”

“What?”

“It’s one of the guys who works at the mall. Paul Bentley. Who was he, the assistant guy?” 

“Yeah, that’s right.”

Coulson pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I think I’d better call and make sure this isn’t some mistake. Hydra could have used--”

“No,” said Hillary. “We already made that assumption with Katherine. We can’t take that chance.”

“So we go back to the mall?”

“Right.” Hillary turned towards the door.

Mitch stood up. “Wait, what, we’re just going to leave?” 

“We’ll call the police and the apartment managers on our way,” said Coulson. “This is more important. We need a live suspect.” 

They walked out of the apartment, Mitch closing the door.

On the drive back to the mall, Mitch was assigned with contacting the authorities. Hillary got a text from her mother.

 

Hi, sweetie. Hope you’re having a great day! 

Her mother liked adding flower emoticoms to her texts.

Hillary smiled briefly to herself but felt even more depressed. It hurt her to know that there were people in the world who thought their ideas of how the world should be run were more important than little things like these. Hydra wanted to destroy everything she knew and believed in--everything that EVERYONE knew and believed in. How could people like Katherine Sowell be so devoted to a single cause that they would sacrifice their lives if their cause was threatened? 

How could people like Arnim Zola and Alexander Pierce be so evil as to physically abuse, torture, and manipulate people like Bucky Barnes, strip them of their identity, and bend  
them to their wills? 

When they got to the parking lot of the River Heights mall, Hillary had this much figured out: people like the kind that worked for Hydra had lost sight of what was really  
important. Hillary had not. And she was going to fight for what she believed in--for family, for faith, for friendship, for humanity.

Hillary stepped out of the car and held her head high. The sun was coming out partly between the gray clouds overhead. She’d left her mittens in the hotel room that morning  
and so she kept her hands stuffed in her pockets. It was bitingly cold, but she didn’t care. 

“So what’s the game plan, boss?” asked Mitch. “Do we just walk in there?”

“Pretty much,” said Coulson. 

“Will he know we’re coming to arrest him?”

“I hope not.”

As they entered the food court, Hillary was praying that Mr. Bentley would have no clue what was coming. 

They went to the office in the back of the food court. Sitting at a desk was Will Brooks. Paul Bentley, a thin man with graying hair and goatee and glasses, was leaning over him  
talking about something. They both looked up when the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents entered.

“Yes, Mr. Coulson, is there something we can help you with?”

“There is, and I apologize in advance if this makes a mess.” Coulson then lunged forward at Paul Bentley. Bentley yelled as Coulson, with the strength of a man half his age,  
slammed him against the wall and started groping in his mouth. Brooks stood up, stunned. Mitch looked ready to throw himself at Coulson’s side if needed, but Hillary held his shoulder.

Coulson let out a few choice swearwords as he withdrew a small object from inside Bentley’s mouth and threw it on the floor. 

“Now, what do you have to say for yourself?” asked Coulson. 

“I’ve got nothing to say to you,” said Bentley, calling Coulson a dirty name. “I didn’t hurt anyone in October. I was trying to help protect the customers.”

“Katherine Sowell is dead, did you know that?” said Coulson.

“I figured,” Bentley gasped. Hillary couldn’t see but Coulson may have been choking him.

“I’ll bet you thought you could get away with letting someone else find the Asset for you, didn’t you? Let her do your dirty work, eh?”

“I’ve got a full-time job--she was perfectly willing--let me go!” Bentley squirmed against Coulson. 

Coulson looked around and nodded at his assistants. They both drew their guns and pointed at Bentley. 

Will Brooks raised his hands and sat down in his office chair. “Am I in trouble, too?” he asked. 

“No, I think you’re fine,” said Coulson. “Just very mistaken in one of your trusted associates. Mitch, pull out that chair.” 

Mitch pulled forward one of the extra chairs and Coulson lowered Bentley onto it. Hillary moved in behind him and cuffed his hands.

“Now, start talking,” said Coulson, pointing his gun at Bentley.

“First you will tell me what is with you?” said Bentley. “Just barging in here and slamming me on the wall without warning? I could have YOU arrested.”

“Yes, I suppose I’m very lucky you had that cyanide capsule in your mouth,” said Coulson. “Then I’d be the one in trouble. I would have called ahead, but I didn’t want to give you  
the chance to pop it--unlike your friend Katharine.”

Bentley glared at him angrily.

“I take it that you know what I’m talking about,” said Coulson.

“She was your friend too, once,” said Bentley. “She used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D..”

“Yes, well, I’m afraid I’ve chosen to distance myself from people with double agendas, Mr. Bentley--if that is your name?”

“Bentley is the name I’ve gone by in civilian society,” said the handcuffed man. “My real name is Paul DeWitt--I chose to keep my first name, at least.”

“And how long have you worked for Hydra?” 

“Twenty years. Twenty years undercover, right until you slammed me on this wall,” said DeWitt. “I got in because they offered to help me pay off my student loans--I could join  
them without actually joining S.H.I.E.L.D. and just do some spying for them in the retail industry.”

“But then after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell,” Coulson goaded him on, waving the end of his gun at DeWitt’s face.

“After S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, I took on the leadership of the operatives who were still in the area. That’s why I was letting Kat do all of my ‘dirty work,’ as you put it. I was delegating.  
She volunteered, in fact. She had connections. She could do it and not get the attack traced back to us. Kat and I were the last two here in the Twin Cities. The rest I told them to get out of town and not get caught. Hydra’s command does not want the local ops to get caught.”

“So the team that attacked the mall?”

“They were specially invited to capture the asset. Someone with connections caught him on a surveillance camera in a Saint Paul corner store a few days before the attack. We  
knew he was in the area. Kat had several of her friends watching for him. Trust me, I wasn’t planning on having him show up at the place where I worked.” 

“It’s not like I blame you,” said Coulson. “So why let Sowell kill herself?”

“That was her choice,” DeWitt insisted. 

“Do you know why she would have?”

“Because Hydra’s mission succeeding was the most important thing to her. She’s...she hasn’t...well, past tense now, she hadn’t been the same since we were discovered by  
S.H.I.E.L.D.. She wanted to make sure it never happened again….Finding the Asset would have gotten Hydra a long way closer to its goals...when he escaped us, she was  
devastated. All that work for nothing. And then you guys showing up, wanting to ask her how she had gotten away with planning it? That’s what killed her.” DeWitt gave Coulson  
a cold smile.

“Then tell me this,” said Coulson. “How does it feel to be the one responsible for hurting lots of innocent people?”

“The casualties were unfortunate. The strike team was just doing its job. But I helped people stay out of the way,” said DeWitt. “We nearly had the Asset. If that meddling ex-  
agent of yours hadn’t tagged along with him that day, we would have him by now.”

“He was more than a match for any of your people on his own. And if Sara Martin was by his side, then so much the worse for Hydra. I know her: she’s a fighter.” Coulson smiled  
down at DeWitt. “Do you know what Captain America unleashed last April? When he freed him?”

“Do you know what Hydra created?” DeWitt dared him.

“Do you know who he was before then? You can’t act like it doesn’t matter, because it did. You were trying to hurt a good person that day in October, and you got a lot of other good people hurt in the process. You should be ashamed of yourself. But I’m sorry your cyanide capsule isn’t within easy reach, so you’ll just have to learn to live with it.” He looked up at his agents. “Mitch, do you got a plastic baggie?”

“Right here, sir,” said Mitch, pulling a ziplock back from his jacket pocket. He bent down to the linoleum floor and picked up the little pill. “Here,” he said, handing it to Coulson,  
“I don’t want this with me.” 

“It’s not gonna hurt you,” said Coulson, but he took it anyway and stowed the bag in his jacket pocket. DeWitt watched him like he desperately wanted to lunge forward and grab it from him, but Hillary kept her pistol pointed at his head.

Coulson asked Will Brooks, who had watched the whole interrogation in horror, to call the police. Mitch called Agent Amos to report what they had found. The police arrived  
within half an hour and took DeWitt away.

“We’ll interrogate him a little more in depth this afternoon,” said Coulson. “How does lunch sound?”

“Sounds good,” said Hillary.

“Wanna eat here?”

“Let’s not,” said Hillary as they walked out of the office suite. “I’ve had enough of this place.”

“Me too,” said Mitch. “I wonder where Sara Martin was headed, actually, before she met with Bucky and decided to bring him here.” 

“Good question. Maybe we should call her, Coulson,” said Hillary. “Or let’s not do that either.”

“Actually,” said Coulson as they entered the Food Court, “I was thinking I wanted to tell her that it was thanks to her that Bucky escaped from Hydra in October.”

“She never confessed to it,” said Mitch.

“I know, but DeWitt kind of blamed her for losing him,” said Coulson. “She deserves our thanks.”

Neither Hillary nor Mitch knew how to respond to that. 

Then Mitch said, “Hey, boss, how about the Olive Garden where Lisa Bott works? It’s close by. And I think I’m a little hungry for Italian food right now.”

“As long as we don’t have to tell Lisa what happened to her friend,” said Hillary.

“I think we should tell her anyway,” said Coulson. “She deserves to know the truth. But maybe not right this minute, though. Let’s just go get something to eat and be glad all of  
this is over.” 

“If you say so, Boss,” said Hillary, in the back of her mind wondering how long it would take Hydra to figure out how S.H.I.E.L.D. had crippled their operation in Minneapolis. She also wondered when S.H.I.E.L.D. would have to tell Katherine Sowell’s family and friends that she had died. Would they miss her? Had she even thought about them, when she had taken the cyanide?

“You know what, though,” said Hillary as they emerged into the parking lot, “I think there might be more to Katherine Sowell dying. But maybe it’s not our job to find out why.”  
Coulson nodded. “People never do things for just one reason. Emily Bridger told me that.”

“She was right,” said Hillary. 

“But I think when we go back to interrogate DeWitt this afternoon, we’ll have to examine him more closely. What we really need to do is find out who is in charge of Hydra and  
what they’re trying to do.”

“Don’t they always try to take over the world?” asked Mitch.

“Yeah, but I meant exactly how are they going about it,” said Coulson. “And we need to know how they’re rebuilding since the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D.. I know it doesn’t look like  
they’ve gotten very far, but Captain Rogers says we shouldn’t take that for granted.”

“Well, the Captain knows best,” said Hillary as she opened her car door.

Lunch at Olive Garden was a pleasant experience. Hillary wondered if she would ever eat again after seeing a dead body that morning, but came to find out she was actually very hungry. Lisa Bott was working there and said hello to them, but fortunately she did not have to wait on them. Hillary took a picture of herself, Mitch and Coulson at their table.  
She sent a text back to her mother saying her day was getting better. 

And Coulson sent a text message to Sara Martin later that day.

Hey, Sara, this is Coulson. I hope you’re doing okay. We have been able to arrest the people behind the mall shooting. I want you to know that Hydra blames you specifically for the Asset getting away. Whatever happened on that day in October, you made a difference. I just wanted to say, for myself and also on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D., thank you.

Sara didn’t reply.

Paul DeWitt partly cooperated with the interrogation that afternoon. He gave the names of his surviving Hydra associates as well as the people he reported to, but he never confessed what Hydra’s plans were or identified the leaders. None of the other suspects were in town, but they decided to head for Chicago and see if they could find Paul DeWitt’s associates. 

“I appreciate all your help, Director,” said Rex Amos as he dropped them off at the airport the next afternoon.

“You’re welcome to it,” said Coulson. “But this wasn’t a case we could solve completely. We just did what we had to in your area.”

Hillary left Minneapolis still wondering what Sara Martin had been hiding. Beyond a doubt, she had seen Bucky and even interacted with him, but what they had done after the mall attack was a mystery. 

It wasn’t a case they could solve this time.


End file.
